From Maid to Newsie
by Maleficent-darkgoodwitch2416
Summary: When Anastasia and Drizella destroy her dress, Ella doesn't go to the garden and so she never meets her Fairy Godmother. Instead, Ella runs away to New York, and joins the Manhattan Newsies. When the strike begins, she is a key leader, but when Joe remarries Lady Tremaine, how will Ella react to having the Newsies' reporter, Katherine as her new stepsister?
1. Running Away

From Maid to Newsie

Ella's POV

I ran down the stairs calling, "Wait for me! Please! Wait for me!"

Stepmother, Drizella, and Anastasia all turned and stared at me. "Do you like it? Do you think it will do?" I modeled the dress my animal friends had made me.

Anastasia and Drizella immediately began tugging on Stepmother's dress like whiny two-year-olds.

"Mother, she can't come!" Drizella whined.

"Mother, you aren't going to let her come, are you?" Anastasia whined.

Stepmother held out her hands and said, "Girls. Girls. We had a deal. After all, we did make a bargain, didn't we, Cinderella?"

She stepped toward me and, smiling evilly, said, "And I never go back on my word."

I cringed away. She stepped closer and I relaxed, thinking she just wanted to admire my dress. She smiled at me and murmured, "How very clever."

Fingering the necklace, she turned to Drizella and asked, "These beads—they give it just the right touch—wouldn't you think so, Drizella?"

Drizella huffed and said, "No. I don't think..."

She whirled and snapped, "Why you little thief. Those are my beads. Give them back!" She tore the necklace off.

"Oh, and that's my sash! She's wearing my sash! She can't!" Anastasia protested, tearing her sash out of my dress.

The two ripped my dress to sheds as I begged and pleaded with them to stop. Drizella leaned over me and said, "You little..."

I'll leave the rest to your imagination, but it wasn't nice or ladylike.

"Girls! That's quite enough!" Stepmother called. "Hurry along now, the both of you. I won't have you upsetting yourselves."

Drizella and Anastasia flounced out the door. Stepmother followed them and, closing the door, called, "Goodnight."

I looked helplessly at her and then fled the room. No, I fled the house. I ran until I reached the docks and eventually ended up on a ship full of goods headed for New York. Tears streamed silently down my face. I was never putting up with their cruel treatment again.


	2. Arrival in New York City

I arrived in New York, two weeks later. I wandered away and soon met a group of boys who were sitting and waiting for something. One of them came over and said, "'Lo Miss. I'm Jack Kelly and these are my friends—Crutchie, Davey, Les, Tommy Boy, Buttons, Henry, Romeo, Finch, Specs, Kid Blink, and the rest of the Manhattan newsies."

They waved to me and I waved shyly back. "What do newsies do?" I asked.

"We sell papes," Jack answered.

"Papes?" I asked.

"Hawk headlines," Crutchie added.

"Newspapers," Davey translated. "Hawking headlines—see a headline in the pape, like it, use it to sell said pape."

I grinned and said, "I'm Rella."

"Join us—be a Newsie," Jack suggested.

After I sat down next to him, Crutchie poked me and asked, "So are ya an orphan or a runaway?"

I looked at him and, grinning, said, "Um, both, actually."

The others grinned and hugged me and clapped me on the back. Jack handed me a quarter. "We'll start you at fifty papes, got it, kiddo?" Jack seemed to be the undisputed leader.

I nodded agreeably and added, "I'll pay you back."

Jack nodded in response. Thankfully he was smart enough not to waste his time arguing with me.


	3. I'm Gonna Be A Newsie

I went up to the desk and, twirling the quarter until it fell, slapped it, and then demanded, "Gimme fifty papes, Wiesel."

He nodded and gave me the fifty papes to sell. He also said, "Welcome to New York, kid. Keep in line and behave and I won't send my nephews—the Delanceys—Oscar and Morris after you." I nodded silently. The instant we were given the all-clear, we darted into the city. I quickly sold my fifty papes and paid Jack back that evening.


	4. Late Night Discussions

"Hey, Rella, I gotta question," Jack said, as Jack, Davey, Crutchie, and I all sat on the roof of the orphanage where we lived with the other Manhattan Newsies.

I nodded and said, "Ask away, Jack."

"Do you think anyone might be looking for you?" he asked.

I turned and stared at him. Was Stepmother looking for me? Did I actually care if she was looking for me? Was she actually worried about her stepdaughter or did she just want her maid back? Was she worried about me? I took a deep breath and answered, "I doubt it. Why?"

"Well, there's a rumor going around in the rich part of New York—da Bronx—that Lady Eleanora Tremaine of Nanthia had—has—a stepdaughter, who—this is the weird part—is named Eleanor, but called Ella, or according to Lady Tremaine, Little Ella, who ran away and that Lady Tremaine is really worried about her. Apparently, she promised Lord Edmund Tremaine to keep his daughter safe and her running away makes Lady Tremaine feel like a failure," Crutchie murmured.

I rolled my and snorted. "Yeah, right," I scoffed. "Lady Tremaine doesn't really care about her stepdaughter. She probably just wants her maid back."

"How do you know that?" Davey, who'd been sitting silently next to Jack, asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

"Because I am her stepdaughter and she's never cared about me since Father's death almost thirteen years ago," I answered. "I was her servant, her slave. It was awful. And I'm amazed you heard that nickname—the 'Little Ella' one—'cause she hasn't called me in that in years. Nowadays, she and her daughters call me Cinderella."

Jack hugged me and said, "Well, then, Miss Rella Tremaine, or should I say Miss Rella Kelly, we'll do what we can to keep you a Newsie."

Then I asked, "What's so weird about my name, Crutchie? If anyone's name is weird, it's you or Buttons."

"Nicknames—Buttons had had a very large button collection and I always have had a gimp leg and had to use a crutch," he responded. "It's just how similar your name is to your stepmother's name that's weird."

I grinned and said, "Alright boys. Time for us all to be getting to bed. We've a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

Crutchie, Davey and Jack all grumbled but obediently went to bed. Jack called, "Who put you in charge?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm the oldest which makes me, by default, in charge," I called back.

"I'm seventeen," Jack called.

"I got two years on ya, Jack—nineteen," I called back.

"Damn it," he swore. "Fine, you're in charge, but I gets first dibs on second-in-command."

I laughed and said, "Sure, Jack. You're my second-in-command."

Then I went to bed as well.


	5. Where Is Ella? Is She OK?

Lady Tremaine's POV

I paced anxiously around my room. Where was she? Where was my Little Ella—as I used to call her? If Edmund was alive, he'd be furious with me for losing his daughter—then again, I was mad at myself and that self-directed anger was enough for two or an army. I mean, seriously, how hard is it to find one nineteen-year-old girl? "I should have locked the back door while she was moping in the attic," I thought, frustrated with my failure to keep Ella in Nanthia. "I should have made sure she didn't have any easy escapes. I should have forbidden her from leaving the house."

Then a whole bunch of horror stories filled my mind. "What if she was raped and is pregnant? She's just a child herself. And she knows she isn't to make me a grandmother until after Drizella and Anastasia have done so, but what if she forgets? What if she's lost in a foreign country and crying for me to come bring her home? What if she's scared? What if she wants me to bring her home? What if she's hungry? What if she needs me? Of course she needs me—she's still a child. What if she was kidnapped? What if someone got her drunk and forced her into a marriage? She's just a child. She needs me. Maybe she's trying to come home, but can't figure out what will lead her home. What if she was mugged? What if she was forced into slavery? What if she can't escape to come back? What if she thinks she doesn't need me anymore? What if she was murdered?"

I shoved that thought aside and immediately continued focusing on finding my stepdaughter. "Please, let Ella be OK. Please let her come back safely to me," I begged. Tears slid down my face as I feared for the life and safety of my youngest daughter, unaware she had found another family, who'd fight me to keep her with them.

Anastasia joined me and murmured, "Mother, I miss her."

I hugged Anastasia and whispered, "Me too, Anastasia, me too."

Drizella came in and punched the wall. "She coulda left a note or some sort of clue!" my oldest snapped, tears forming in her eyes that threatened to spill over. "Something to help us find her!" I wrapped my arms around my two daughters. Ella's disappearance had brought the three of us closer, but it was hurting the girls, especially Anastasia, who had been very close to her baby sister. Drizella was becoming more violent and Anastasia was becoming more of a loner and depressed. I was becoming more protective and more anxious.

"Maybe she didn't leave a note because she doesn't want to be found," Anastasia offered cautiously.

I looked at my second daughter and saw the truth in her statement, but insisted, "Even if she wants to be found and is trying to find her way back to us or if she doesn't want to be found, we will not stop searching for her, until we've found something, until we've found her." They nodded in agreement. We were going to find Ella whether she liked it or not.


	6. Carrying the Banner

Rella's POV

The next morning, we all grumbled good-naturedly as we got outta bed and began preparing for the work day. Some things never changed, I thought bitterly. I may have left Nanthia but I'm still getting up at the crack of dawn.

"That's my cigar," Buttons called to Tommy Boy.

"You'll steal another," Tommy Boy replied.

"Hey, bummers, we got work to do," Finch called.

"Since when did you become me mother?" Romeo asked.

"Aw, stop your bawling," Davey muttered.

We all glared at him and snapped, "Hey! Who asked you!"

Jack grinned and said, "Try Bottle Alley or the harbor..."

"Try Central Park—it's guaranteed," Les added.

"Try any banker, bum, or barber," I called.

"They almost all knows how to read," Crutchie called.

"It's a crooked game we're playing—one we'll never lose, as long as suckers don't mind paying just to get bad news," Henry pointed out.

We grinned and crowded into the bathroom. Jack grabbed the towel first.

"I smell money," Finch grinned.

Crutchie dramatically pinched his nose shut and shot back, "You smell foul!"

"Met this girl last night," Kid Blink called.

"Move your elbow," Henry said to me.

"Pass the towel," I called to Jack.

"For a buck, I might," he called back.

I rolled my eyes and we raced to out to get to our starting point, where we waited for the distribution office to open.

"Ain't it a fine life, carrying the banner through it all? A mighty fine life carrying the banner tough and tall. When that bell rings, we goes where we wishes. We'se as free as fishes. Sure beats washin' dishes. What a fine life, carrying the banner home free all."

After we arrived, I asked, "Hey, Crutchie? What's your leg say? Gonna rain?"

He shook his bad leg and said, "No rain. Aha! Partly cloudy—clear by evening."

Romeo smacked my arm and called, "Ha! And the limp sells fifty papes a week all by itself."

Crutchie glared at Romeo and responded, "I don't need the limp to sell papes. I got personality. It takes a smile sweet as butter—the kind the ladies can't resist."

"It takes an orphan with a stutter," Jack began.

"Who ain't afraid to use her fist!" I finished.

"Summer stinks and winter's waitin'—welcome to New York! Boy, ain't nature fascinatin' when you gotta walk?" we called.

We all chilled and talked about how great it was to be a Newsie.

"Still, it's fine life carrying the banner. It's a fine life, carrying the banner. A mighty fine life, carrying the banner with me chums. A mighty fine life, blowing every nickel as it comes. Hey, what's the holdup? Sittin' makes me antsy. I likes livin' chancey. Harlem to Delancey—what a fine life carrying the banner through the slums... Curdled coffee... Just give me half a cup... Something to wake me up... Concrete donuts sprinkled with mold... I gotta find an angle... Jack says to change my spot... I gotta sell more papes... Wish I could catch a breeze... All I can catch is fleas... God, help me if it's not! Somebody help me, please ... If I hate the headlines, I'll make up the headline and I'll say anything I hafta 'cause at two for a penny—if I take too many, Weasel just makes me eat 'em afta. I got a feelin' about the headline. I smells me a headline. Betcha dinner it's a doozy 'bout a pistol-packin' floozy who knows how to make a newsie's day! If you wanna moon the next edition, give us an earthquake or a war!"

"How 'bout a crooked politician?" Specs suggested.

I took Crutchie's crutch and hit Specs over the head with it as the rest of us all said, "Ya nitwit—that ain't news no more!"

We all got up and began stretching to begin our walk around town, stating, "Uptown to Grand Central Station down to city hall, we improves our circulation walking 'till we fall. We'll be all there, carrying the banner man to man! We're always out there, soaking every sucker that we can! Here's the headline: Newsies on a mission! Kill the competition! Sell the next edition! We'll be out there, carrying the banner! See us out there carrying the banner! Always out there carrying the banner! Ah! Ah! Ah! Go!"


	7. The World Will Know!

But then we learned of the price hike for both the World and the Journal. Now, instead of fifty cents per hundred, it was sixty cents per hundred. We'd more than likely starve to death at that price and, as it was, we were already pretty close to starvation with the old price—I'd only be able to get about forty-five papes—not even close to enough to get food. I'd never get out of New York—none of us would. I grimaced as Henry asked, "What is we gonna do, Jack?"

He shrugged and I asked, "Jack, counting the other boroughs, how many newsies are there?"

"Close to ten thousand," Davey answered.

"Then we go on strike," Jack caught up to my plans immediately.

"Spread the word to the other newsies, immediately," I added. "It's our day!" I finished, raising my voice so the others could clearly hear me.

Jack sprang to his feet and called, "Pulitzer and Hearst—they think we're nothin'. Are we nothin'?"

"No!" we yelled.

"Pulitzer and Hearst—they think they got us. Do they got us?" Jack demanded.

"No!" we yelled, more forcefully.

"Though we ain't got hats or badges, we're a union just by saying so and the World will know!" Jack declared.

"What's it gonna take to stop the wagons? Are we ready?" Jack asked.

"Yeah!" we cheered.

"What's it gonna take to stop the scabbers? Can we do it?" Jack asked.

"Yeah!" we all cheered again.

"We'll do what we gotta do until we break the will of mighty Bill and Joe!" I yelled.

"And the World will know! And the Journal too!" everyone called.

Jack and I cupped our hands around our mouths and, turning toward the distribution office, called, "Mister Hearst and Pulitzer—have we got news for you!"

We all called, "See the World don't know, but they're gonna pay! 'Stead of hawkin' headlines we'll be makin' 'em today!"

Specs yelled, "And our ranks will grow..."

"And we'll kick their rear," Crutchie added.

"And the World will know that we been here!" we all chorused.

I asked, "When the circulation bell starts ringing, will we hear it?"

"No!" everyone yelled.

"What if the Delanceys come out swinging? Will we hear it!" I demanded.

"No!" everyone screamed.

"When you got a hundred voices singing, who can hear a lousy whistle blow?" we asked each other.

We all exchanged glances. We would rebel until we got our rights back. "And the world will know that this ain't no game, that we got a ton of rotten fruit and perfect aim. So they gave their word, well, it ain't worth beans. Now they're gonna see what "Stop The Presses" really means. And the old will weep and go back to sleep. And we've got no choice but to see it through!"

"And we found our voice!" Romeo called.

"And I lost my shoe!" Henry added.

We called, "And the World will... Yeah!"

Jack yelled, "Pulitzer may own the World but he don't own us!"

"Pulitzer may own the World but he don't own us!" we echoed.

"Pulitzer may crack the whip but he won't whip us!" I called.

"Pulitzer may crack the whip but he won't whip us!" everyone else echoed.

"And the World will know! We've been keeping score! We've been down too long and we paid our dues! Either they gives us our rights or we gives them a war! And the things we do today will be tomorrow's news! And the die is cast and the torch is passed! And a roar will rise from the streets below! And our ranks will grow and grow and grow and so the World feel the fire and finally know!" we all called.

"Pulitzer may own the World but he don't own us!" the majority of the Newsies called.

"Pulitzer may own the World but he don't own us!" Jack and I echoed.

"Pulitzer may crack the whip but he won't whip us!" the majority of the Newsies called.

"Pulitzer may crack the whip but he won't whip us!" Jack and I echoed.

"So the World says 'No!' Well, the kids do too! Try to walk all over us—we'll stomp all over you!" We chorused.

"Can they kick us out? Take away our vote?" Crutchie demanded.

We all looked at each other and then continued, "Will we let 'em stuff this crock of garbage down our throat? No! Every day we wait is a day we lose and this ain't for fun and it ain't for show and we'll fight 'em toe to toe to toe and, Joe, your World will feel the fire and finally, finally know!"

Then a female reporter arrived and said, "I'm Katherine Plumber of the New York Sun. I'd like to cover the strike."

I nodded and shook hands with her, confirming our alliance against Joe.


	8. Watch What Happens

Katherine's POV

That night, I began my article. I had to get some of a decent article started. I'd get the pictures tomorrow morning.

As with all my articles, I began talking to myself and planning it out. "Alright, what do those kids call themselves? Newsies. Hmm. First I need a headline. Newsies Stop the Presses? No. Newsies Stop the World? Newsies Stop the World! That's it! That's my headline! Now for the article. Ugh! Of all the times to have writer's block, Katherine! Write what you know, so they say—all I know is I don't know what to write or the right way to write it. This is big, lady, don't screw it up! This is not some little vaudeville I'm reviewing! Poor little kids versus rich greedy sourpusses! Ha! It's a cinch—it could practically write itself and let's pray it does 'cause as I may have mentioned I have no clue what I'm doing. Am I insane? This is what I've been waiting for! Well, that, plus the screaming of ten angry editors. 'A girl! It's a girl! How the hell—Is that even legal? Look! Just go and get her!' Plus there's the story behind the story—thousands of children exploited, speak up, take a stand, and there's someone to write about it—that's how things get better. Give life's little guys some ink and, when it dries, just watch what happens! Those kids will live and breathe right on the page and, once they're center stage, you watch what happens! And who's there with her camera and her pen as boys turn into men? They'll storm the gates and, when they do, just watch what happens! Picture a handsome, heroically charismatic, plainspoken, skirt-chasing, cocky little son of a—Lie down with dogs and you wake up with a raise and a promotion. So, he's a flirt—a complete egomaniac—the fact is he's also the face of the strike. What a face! Face the fact—that's a face that could save us all from sinking in the ocean. Like someone said, 'Power tends to corrupt and absolute power'—Wait! Wait!—'corrupts absolutely.' That is genius! But give me some time, I'll be twice as good as that six months from...never. Just look around at the world we're inheriting and think of the one we'll create. Their mistake is they got old. That is not a mistake we'll be making—no sir, we'll stay young forever! Give those kids and me the brand new century and watch what happens! It's David and Goliath, do or die—the fight is on and I can't watch what happens, but all I know is nothing happens if you just give in. It can't be any worse than how it's been and it just so happens that we just might win, so whatever happens let's begin!"


	9. Seize the Day

Rella's POV

The next morning, all of us—Jack, Crutchie, Davey, Les, Henry, Romeo, Kid Blink, Specs, Buttons, Tommy Boy, Racetrack, Finch, Elmer, Albert, Race, Mush, Jo Jo and I—gathered outside the distribution office. I was going to try to convince the female newsies to join us. I held out my hand to Jack and he nodded and we began singing and antagonizing the scabbers.

"Now is the time to seize the day. Stare down the odds and seize the day. Minute by minute—that's how you win it. We will find a way but let us seize the day. Courage cannot erase our fear. Courage is when we face our fear. Tell those with power—safe in their tower—we will not obey. Behold the brave battalion that stands side by side—too few in number and too proud to hide. Then say to the others who did not follow through, 'You're still our brothers and we will fight for you.' Now is the time to seize the day. Stare down the odds and seize the day. Once we've begun, if we stand as one, someday becomes somehow, and a prayer becomes a vow, and the strike starts right damn now! Now is the time to seize the day! Now is the time to seize the day! Answer the call and don't delay! Answer the call and don't delay! Wrongs will righted if we're united! Let us seize the day! Now let 'em hear it loud and clear! Now let 'em hear it loud and clear! Like it or not, we're drawing near! Like it or not, we're drawing near! Proud and defiant, we'll slay the giant! Judgment day is here! Houston to Harlem, look what's begun! One for all and all for one! Strike, strike, strike, strike, strike, strike, strike, strike, strike, strike, strike! Oh—strike! Now is the time to seize the day! They're gonna see there's hell to pay! Nothing can break us—no one can make us quit before we're done! One for all and all for one for all and all for one for all and all for one!"

Thankfully, most of the male scabbers joined us and Katherine was able to get a picture for her article, but unfortunately none of the female scabbers joined us.


	10. Santa Fe

That night, Jack stayed up and sulked and moped about the disastrous battle that had occurred earlier today. Crutchie had been captured and now I had a killer headache from the fight that had resulted in Crutchie's capture that afternoon. "Folks, we finally got a headline: 'Newsies Crushed As Bulls Attack!' Crutchie's callin' me—dumb crip's just too damn slow! Guys are fightin', bleedin', fallin' thanks to good ole Captain Jack. Captain Jack just wants to close his eyes and go! Let me go, far away, somewhere they won't never find me and tomorrow won't remind me of today. When the city's finally sleepin' and the moon looks old and grey, I get on the train that's bound for Santa Fe. And I'm gone! And I'm done! No more running, no more lying, no more fat old men denying me my pay—just a moon so big and yellow, it turns night right into day. Dreams come true, yeah, they do in Santa Fe. Where does it say you gotta live and die here? Where does it say a guy can't catch a break? Why should you only take what you're given? Why should you spend your whole life livin' trapped where there ain't no future, even at seventeen, breakin' your back for someone else's sake? If the life don't seem to suit ya, how 'bout a change of scene, far from the lousy headlines and the deadlines in between! Santa Fe! My old friend, I can't spend my whole life dreaming though I know that's all I seem inclined to do. I ain't getting any younger and I'll wanna start brand new. I need space and fresh air. Let 'em laugh in my face—I don't care. Save my place! I'll be there. Just be real is all I'm asking 'cause I'm dead if I can't count on you today. I got nothing if I ain't got Santa Fe!"


	11. Author's Note

**_A/N. Hey guys, thanks for all the votes so far. We're halfway done. Just 50 more votes and you'll learn who gets sacrificed to Max's wrath. So be sure to vote.  
_**


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